


mare in ossibus nostris dormit

by liobi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Black Romance, F/F, Lots of Pirates, Other, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Pirates, Scourge Sisters, Scourgecest, So many pirates, black relationships, pale relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liobi/pseuds/liobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her ancestor was called Mindfang. She was known as the scourge of the seas at the time, wreaking havoc that not even the Alternian navy could stop. They tried several times though, good effort! They were then culled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hollyquin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollyquin/gifts).



Part One: The Shiv

==> Be the tiny tealblood with a passion for justice.

Your name is Terezi Pyrope, and you are really fed up with the beeping coming from your computer. It’s practically noon! Why would anyone be up so late? You are four sweeps old and sleep is important to a developing young troll thank you very much!

AG: Hey Terezi!   
AG: Terezi!   
AG: Hey!   
AG: Wake up!!!!!!!!   
GC: TH3 COURT H34RS YOUR PL34S M1SS S3RK3T  
GC: 1T'S TH3 M1DDL3 OF TH3 D4Y  
GC: WH4T DO YOU W4NT.   
AG: ::::D  
AG: I found something really cool  
AG: Go on  
AG: Ask me how cool it is  
GC: S1GH  
GC: HOW COOL 1S 1T  
AG: The coolest!!!!!!!!   
GC: 1F TH4T 1S 4LL TH3 D3F3NS3 H4S TO PR3S3NT  
GC: COURT 1S 4DJOURN3D UNT1L 4FT3R M1DN1GHT  
AG: 8ut it has to do with my ancestor!!!!!!!!   
GC: >:o  
AG: Yes I see that envy in your eyes!!!!!!!!   
AG: I have found the treasure trove made 8y the gr8 Mindfang!   
AG: And I am going to tell you allllllll about it!   
GC: GO B4CK TO SL33P VR1SK4  
AG: ::::(   
GC: YOU C4N COM3 OV3R 1N TH3 3V3N1NG  
AG: ::::D

==> Be Mindfang, many sweeps ago

Sorry to disappoint, but you are most definitely not Mindfang, whoever the heck that is. Your name is Aranea Serket, and you are unfortunately an orphan. It was a sad day and you don’t like to remember it.

==> Remember that sad day

Hey! What did you just say!

==> Don’t remember that day

That’s more you like it! You are currently six sweeps old and you love every minute of it! Except for those minutes where you’re absolutely starving, which admittedly is most of them. But enough about those troubles! You are part of a ragtag, rabble rousing gang whose only concerns are getting enough food and avoiding the law. Thankfully you’re really good at the second one. Your friends call you Fang, probably cause of your skill with a shiv. It’s not surprising things considered. What should you do?

==> Stop fucking around and narrate the story like normal

Okay, okay! Jeez.

==> Aranea: Wake up

The first thing you feel is the cold press of the stones against your skin. Your eyes crack open and you see the rest of your clan huddled in piles of rags or cuddled together in the corner. There’s no spoor, no cocoons, you’re all not that rich. Once or twice a sweep you all pool your extra spending money and rent a room at the Foamy Diamond, trying to cram all 15 of you into one giant cocoon. Even with all the squirming and cramped space it’s better than sleeping on the floor. You crack your neck as you sit up, yawning and getting the briny air stuck to the back of your throat. The light in the cracks of the window is dim, the sun’s almost down probably.

Early evening. Time to hunt.

“Hey, wake up!” you kick the troll next to you to wake her up, she mutters and turns over instead. “Pip! Pipryt, wake up!” A greenish bruise is forming where you kicked her, but she still shows no signs of waking. “I’ll tell Uryath about those Tslimm Shaddi cubes you have.”

Pipryt jumps to her feet faster than you can track. “I’m up!”

“It’s about time.” You push to your feet and stretch. “Wake everyone up, we’ve got some hunting to do tonight.”

Soon the rest of the gang are up and ready to go. The sunlight has dimmed a bit more and you can hear the sounds of the evening market coming to life right outside the door. You wait till everyone, even the younglings, are ready before splitting them off into groups. “Queen said we have to fill our quota tonight otherwise she’s gonna give the docks and market to some other gang.”

“But they’re ours!” One of the younger members protests. He can’t be more than two sweeps.

“They’re Queen’s turf, and she only lets us keep them because we pay our dues, Poilee” Pipryt explains, picking up a rock from the floor and handing it to the boy. “And what do we have to do to pay our dues?”

“Rob the rich fuckers.”

You smile and knock your knuckle against his budding horns. “There you go, getting it already.” The rest of the gang picks up their rocks and shivs, and when all are ready you push the door open and you spill out of the house, some into the streets and others to the rooftops. The port spreads out beyond you. Your house being at the edge of the market is near the top of the hill, giving you a great view over the market and docks. 

New shipments of spices and weapons have come in tonight, you can see the great masts and smokestacks sprouting from the ships. Other, bigger ships probably are carrying parts for the new space cruisers out to sea where they’ll be assembled in the ocean. You’ve heard rumors that the Queen had ripped off one of those shipments and bartered with the Condesce herself to get payoff for it. You’re not sure whether to believe the rumors or not, but the Queen definitely isn’t someone to be messed with. You’ve met her yourself.

You and Pipryt are taking the docks today, lots of high profile merchants following the incoming and outgoing of large ships. As you both take to the rooftops to make your way towards the port, the scars from your sisterhood burn slightly. You rub the cross on your wrist, looking over to find Pipryt doing the same thing. “Bad omen.” She chuckles lightly, putting her hands to her side with a blush.

“Not if we have all the luck in the world.” You say, taking her hand with a smile as you jump to the next roof.

\---

Aitso was the crown jewel of the empire. People came from all over the planet to see the great port, stand in awe of its military might, and to wonder at the mechanical beauty of the city’s three sinks. An intertwined system of locks, walls, and city streets made Aitso a “mountain rising in the middle of the ocean” according to Troll Lucretius’ journal. The Empress’s palace sat atop the highest sink with her great and terrible lusus nesting underneath, peering up from the depths of the abyss to gaze at visitors and honored guests alike. “The abyss is fucking staring at me make it stop” in the words of Troll Nietzsche. 

After the towering spires, spiraling staircases, and grand waterfalls cascading over the inner wall, there lay the second sink. The Upper Districts were located there. Subjugglator temples crowned the fanciest streets, trolls, clowns or no, attended temple en masse and loud cries of “whoop whoop!” could be heard scattered around the district every seventh eve. Higher caste trolls and wealthy privileged lowbloods were among the fortunate that lived in this particular district. 

The second sink, unlike the upper sink which was essentially moat and a miniature ocean in its own right, was practically engraved in the lifestyle of those who lived in the districts. Rushing channels of water sent boats zipping through the city streets, private and public alike. Fountains and tiny water labyrinths decorated the district. The law enforcement was above reproach, answering to the priests of the subjugglators themselves. It was very much indeed a city of privilege.

The lower city on the other hand was a completely different story. The lowbloods, the lawless, and the orphans, that’s who polluted the lower city. Military police enforced the law when they could, and took bribes when they couldn’t. The lower sink was completely submerged under the filth and stench of the city, the rumbling of the currents often made noise against the cobblestones. Less stable trolls, either worked up from low levels of spoor or having spent too much time around the voodoo huts of the lower city priests, often dreamt of a gnawing darkness, longing to eat them, crunching their bones into dust. They said it lived right underneath the streets. But that’s silly, everyone knows the only thing under the streets is the lower sink. 

Patches of exposed gutter revealed the swiftly traveling water jetting across the gaps. Citizens were encouraged if not forced to dispose of their dead in those gutters. Scraps of meat were also welcomed. No bodily waste, no reason to get disgusting. The lower sink emptied out into the ocean, where a veritable maze of docks welcomed ships like a horde of tentacles taking a troll under the depths. You and Pipryt make your way to where the lower city and the wharfs meet: a den of debauchery, thievery, and murder, unseen in such a scale anywhere else in Alternia. Every inch of Aitso is truly the heart of the empire.

The noise in the port market is almost overwhelming. Shopkeepers hocking their goods, stalls yelling that they’ve got the best deals, and food vendors cooking at their carts while calling out to passing shoppers, all adding to the chaos of the street. A shady looking stall sells meat kebabs for cheap, and you don’t question what’s in them when you buy one for three quadrans. The first bite doesn’t taste like troll, but you weren’t too picky in the first place. Troll’s not that bad with a bit of sea salt.

You make your way to one of the few fountains in the lower city and sit on the corner. It’s dry, probably saving the district money. Young trolls run through the streets shrieking with glee, some orphans and others with their lusii following worriedly behind them. The greasy smell of the kebab makes its way up your nose and you take another bite, absently wondering if tomorrow one of these kids’ lusus will go missing just as the kebab stand gets more meat. You’re most definitely chewing on musclebeast right now. 

You can see Pipryt giving you the signal from the roof, and you spot your target: a fat blueblood, higher than your caste, walking out of the alleyway with newly minted sestertii jingling in his purse. Tossing your kebab to some kid, you make your way to him easily in the crowded square, pressing against him briefly and cutting his purse from his belt in one clean stroke. You make it to the next street before he starts making any noise, and Pipryt’s already on the lookout for your next mark.

It takes a while but at last she whistles, pointing behind one of the shop stalls where a group of Scienterrorists are buying mind honey from a green blooded dealer. You nod as he ties his purse to his belt. Slowly making your way through the shifting crowd, you notice Pipryt hopping from rooftop to rooftop, slowly getting a better vantage point. Dealers are more dangerous targets than merchants, more likely to notice those few ounces of weight gone as the purse is cut from their belts. 

You manage to cut it without him noticing, but just as you’re about to get out of sight his hand brushes his side and doesn’t hit the purse. He looks around wildly for the thief and he almost spots you; he would have if Pip hadn’t started throwing rocks at his face. As his attention is drawn away you duck behind an empty stall, listening to the noise of his angry shouts as he starts to chase Pipryt. Your scar starts burning and you rub it absently, not today, you think. Not today.

==> Vriska: Wake up Terezi.

Unfortunately, you can’t be Vriska in this story. Try another command!

==> Terezi: Punch Vriska in the face.

There’s a dull thud when your knuckles connect to her shoulder. You missed. You open your eyes to see Vriska glaring at you and rubbing her arm. “Owww, what was that for?”

“Miss Serket! Do you understand the penalties of waking a young troll from her greatly deserved rest?”

“Boring! Penalties are stupid!”

“Penalties are an active part of enforcing rules!”

“You’ve been watching Troll Law and Order again, haven’t you.”

“That isn’t the point!”

“You’re right! The point is that it’s not only boring, but super boring! That should be a crime!”

“No, that’s stupid.”

“Bet ya’ the Empress culls people for being boring.”

“Court etiquette is a completely different thing!”

“She totally does, doesn’t she?”

“We are not talking about this!”

\---

Her ancestor was called Mindfang. She was known as the scourge of the seas at the time, wreaking havoc that not even the Alternian navy could stop. They tried several times though, good effort! They were then culled. 

There was a note in the chest from Mindfang herself, claiming that she had had a vision of her descendant eventually finding the contents, and she wished her well on the journey through life. The chest contained several volumes of what appeared to be a journal, a set of eight blue crystal dice that Vriska assured you were magic, an old shiv, surprisingly not rusted, a sailor’s charm made of fishbone and feathers, and a can of grape Faygo. 

Neither you nor Vriska really understood Mindfang’s sense of humor.

\---

She’s running as fast as she can, looking for anyone to help her, but the trap was well chosen. An old urban block abandoned when the adults were exiled; few kids wander into the city, and fewer venture this deep for good reason. Old channels still rushed water along, and more adventurous trolls posted on blogs claiming that there was some kind of massive trollmade lake or tank that lie under the ruins of the city. In its time, Aitso was known as the jewel of the empire, and this particular district was for the upper class; now it was generally accepted that the only things in the block were undead, trolls that didn’t want to be found, or trolls that got a bit too adventurous and paid the price for it. Trolls had a way of disappearing in this block. But this girl was courageous! She had been challenged to a FLARP duel and had her honor insulted and there was no way she was going to let that stand! The promise of legendary loot in wake of her victory had absolutely nothing to do with it! Really!

However, she hadn’t come to the abandoned block expecting a literal deathtrap, and that was her mistake. A sound echoes off the walls behind her and she turns, squeezing off a few shots with her plasma pistol blindly into the shadows; serious hardware for a six sweeps old, she apparently hadn’t come to the duel with the best of intentions either. You make a mental note to swipe it when you get the chance. Sending Vriska the girl’s coordinates over the com, you draw yourself up, looking down from the low altitude landing pad on the maze of alleyways and passages that riddle the population block. The girl’s heading towards a dead end, and you just bet Vriska that you could break the girl’s arms before she got there.

There’s a path to the right coming up and it looks like she might take it, but you throw a rock and it bounces off the walls so instead she squeezes off a few more shots and goes left. There’s no escape now, and you shimmy down the ladder and silently trot after her; child’s play really. Her feet are slamming against the ground, echoing against the passage and making yours practically silent as you dash from cover to cover. 

You hear cursing and, right on time, she’s reached the end. When she comes into sight, she’s crying and punching the wall in desperation. Your first instinct is to take her out right now while she’s not composed, and you happily follow it. She hears you this time though and has no hesitation in firing at you as you press against the wall to avoid the salvo. You look and she’s running at you now as fast as she can, and you take a moment to appreciate her spirit. The gun’s still recharging when she reaches you however and you take that opportunity to grab her arm and twist your body, throwing her over your shoulder. 

Her arms are long so you put it over your shoulder and squeeze it as hard as you can, one knee on her neck the other braced on her shoulder. A rock is next to you and you pick it up, drawing back and slamming it against her exposed elbow. It gives a slightly fleshy snap, yellowish green blood leaks from the wound. It sounds like something ripped too, and the girl screams as the gun clatters to the ground. Desperation giving her strength, she rips her arm out from under your leg and shoves you off of her. The left arm’s hanging limp but her right quickly grabs the fallen gun and she crams it down your throat laughing and crying so hard that in your momentary shock you wonder which she feels more, euphoria or fear. “You thought you could fuck with me? Me? I’m going to fucking end you.”

You try to slow your breathing, anything to keep you from panicking really. Are you really in over your head? The cold metal of the gun’s muzzle would apparently say yes and you gag a bit as the girl laughs, slowly twisting it around against the back of your throat. What courage she must feel having conquered a child! Bravo!

The triumph in the girl’s face slowly turns to confusion then horror as her hand slowly pulls the gun from your mouth and rests it under her jaw, pushing against the tender flesh of her throat. “You can pull the trigger if you want, but I wouldn’t recommend it. We worked really hard to get you, you know! It’d suck if you died after all of that.” You crawl out from under her and see Vriska coming around the corner keeping the girl in line with her invisible psychic hold. “I’m surprised you made it out of the caves as a grub! You have the survival instincts of lemmingbee.” 

It looks like the girl’s about to retort when you grab the pistol and slam the butt into her face; she goes down. “I had her exactly where I wanted her!” Vriska laughs as she looks you over. No serious injuries, a noise of approval sounds in the back of her throat. “Another second and I would have had her on the ground! She would have sang for me! Don’t laugh!” Vriska stops and smiles at you.

“Let’s get her into the boat.” She taps her temple with a wince. “I can hear mom telling me how hungry she is.”

\---

The smell of urine is slightly overpowering as the girl stands in front of Vriska’s lusus, ensnared in her psychic web. Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, she slowly inches forward against her will. She’s making a valiant effort, really she is! You’re almost impressed! But after seeing this scene several times you’ve grown accustomed to it. If it were you, you’d muster up enough strength to bite your tongue hard and deep, drown in your own blood and deny the lusus of a meal. She doesn’t eat if it isn’t alive. But that’s probably not the first thing this girl would think of. Nevertheless, her trial has been completed and it is now time for judgment. 

The possession of a firearm was not her true crime, in fact not a crime at all; instead what had originally drawn you to stalking this girl was the interesting tendency of her FLARPmates to die, leaving her all their possessions. You’d been watching her for a while before Vriska offered you to choice of who to feed to her lusus next mealtime. It was perfect! The evidence was clearly found in her hive one evening when she was out FLARPing with her friends. She had a pile of loot belonging to her victims, and what was worse there was no obtainment tax taken out!

Alright so that might have been more of a crime that was only applicable to adults, but this totally counted! She was six! She would have had Ascension in four sweeps, there was no way she would have been rehabilitated enough not to commit the same crime again! The culling squads would have had a field day with her! Really, you are sparing her a worse fate. You’re not reaching for justification in this at all. In fact you hear having your blood and internal organs sucked out by a giant spider can be very pleasant in some cases!

The girl manages to look up before Vriska’s mother descends on her and it’s then that you want to plug your ears. Vriska explained it to you one time, “It gets their hearts pumping!” she said, flipping through the latest issue of FLARPer’s Perigee. “When they’re under control, you keep their heart rate low and they have less of a chance of escaping! When Mom lets go of them, all that stuff goes back to normal so she gets better blood flow, better blood flow means she gets more of a meal before they die.”

Come to think of it, that was the morning you and Vriska became sisters. You remember whisking the broken glass over a candle and making two quick crossing cuts on your wrist. Not to deep the blog article said or else they’d bleed out, and Vriska did the same. “You ready?” she asked, you nodded and pressed the cuts together. It burned then, burned like ice and sunlight flaring up into your veins. The cuts sealed quickly; several minutes later when you and Vriska pulled your wrists apart, the slits had already stopped bleeding and had begun to heal. “Sisters forever!” Vriska exclaimed, jumping to her feet, dancing around the hive like the floor was made of hot coals. “Nightmare of the oceans, scourge of the seas! We are the Scourge Sisters!”

“I object! I prefer Terror Twins!”

“Whatever!” She pulled your hands to hers and spun you around and around. “The point is, we’re sisters now!”

“Closer than quadrants!” you laughed and danced with her, kicking broken 8-balls and prediction cubes out of the way.

“Tooooooootally. Quadrants are gross!” Vriska was laughing then, you were too. She’s laughing now still but it’s a different kind of laugh; it’s the laugh of a girl who’s trying to pretend to be strong but in all honesty is really freaked out watching her mother chow down on a troll just a couple sweeps older than her. The girl’s still screaming, struggling around as Vriska’s lusus bites her time and again with wet, ripping sounds. When the girl’s screams fade, the lusus goes in for the kill, crunching down on the neck and then slurping. 

The yellowish green blood drips down from her feet, making little splashes on the stone below. You think you can see her skin indenting from the blood being drained too fast. You feel absolutely perfect! Wonderful! So wonderful in fact you think you’ll leave the gift of your bile in Vriska’s absolution trap!

She’s sitting outside the block when you slide the door open, still wiping a bit of vomit from your mouth. “Sorry.” She shrugs as if she had invited you over to play Troll Magic the Gathering only to remember after you got there that she left her deck at some other friend’s hive. As if it was unfortunate, but not a big deal in the end! Smiling a bit awkwardly she tries again to say something. “You really know how to pick ‘em! Plasma pistol, huh? Won’t your lusus flip out?”

“She doesn’t tend to care about a lot of things.”

Vriska is quiet then, neither of you breaks the silence that acknowledges just how fucked up things can be. 

==> Be Mindfang again

You are still not Mindfang! But you are closer than the last time you tried!

==> Be Aranea 

Pipryt’s floating dead in the lower sink somewhere, the seadweller is missing his eyes and most of his throat, and when you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand it comes away purple. The queen stares impassively at both you and the incredibly well dressed corpse on her floor. “真剣にこのたわごとは性交は何ですか?” You try to explain that it was self-defense, that he killed your partner, your sister. “私はあなたの口を使いたいならば、私は私の足の間にそれを置くだろう。あなたがあなたの指を使ってお金を取っていない場合、彼らは私の内にある必要があります.”

Uh…

You take the next several minutes to remember a few short hours ago.

==> Aranea: Remember a few short hours ago.

The simple truth is you’re going to lose your territory. There’s not really any way you can make the amount of money you need to this perigee. After a priest went crazy and chucklevoodooed an entire market square to death, people tended to stay away from the area where the city met the wharfs. Said it was bad luck, like the old gods were out moving in the deep oceans again. 

Soon after, rumors of islands disappearing and imperial warships crashing into nothing started to circulate. Shrines were set up with bits of feather and fishbone next to the shanties and huts of the lower city priests. People started praying. With their prayers came not blessings but sailors flocking to Aitso, fearing the tales of these great gods of the deep. They populated the wharf, climbed up the rope bridges and over the outer wall, encroached on the outskirts of the lower districts. That’s when things took a turn for the worse. 

Your gang couldn’t pick pockets like they used to. Sailors had tight purse strings and tighter skills with a shiv. Poilee was picked up by a crew, kidnapped to be a cabin boy as punishment for stealing coin from a sailor; the woman didn’t even have two sestertii to her name. The huts and shanties of the priests were raided too. Sailors figured having the blessings of the mirthful messiahs couldn’t hurt any. Almost an entire perigee had passed when he showed up. The seadweller. 

Pip hadn’t marked him. You weren’t even out hunting, just trying to get some food for the younger ones. They had convinced you that it was going to be story day today, where they would sit in a circle with you at one end, bathed in a haunting light as the sun shone through the cracks of the window cover, the eerie glow surrounding you. They all insisted that you knew the best stories and told them the best too. You knew the seventeen prayers of mirth, the stories of the whirlwind black romance between the thief queen and the empress, even all the old sea shanties detailing every deed of the 48 gods. Pip hadn’t marked the seadweller. Instead, he had marked her. 

You split up, Pip going to get some new fruit juice that a peddler had been selling, and you to the kebab stand, the one that had musclebeast but didn’t sneak in any troll meat. After she didn’t show up at the meeting place, you went down the path she took, searching for her but not suspecting what you would find. You did indeed find her, right as the seadweller dragged her body to the gutter and rolled her into the rushing water. You snapped, and when you came to some of the Queen’s gang were moving you. There wasn’t that much left of the seadweller to be honest. When you asked them what happened, they said you made the scariest feral troll they ever saw. 

==> Aranea: While you’re remembering, remember that day your lusus died horribly

No! Stop asking!

==> Aranea: Go back to the present

The Queen offers you two choices. Honestly with you gone, your gang’s profit is toast, not that most of your gang wasn’t already picked up by sailors, so you’re not surprised to hear the options. Either she tries to turn a profit and turns both you and the corpse into the authorities, sees what kind of bounty she can get, or rewards you for your service and tosses both of you in the gutter right here and now. Look, there’s a grate and everything!

Nothing much matters to you right now. Pipryt’s gone. She had been with you one moment and the next, poof. The scar on your wrist burns and suddenly it’s the only trace left of her. You’ve already made your choice and the Queen sighs and motions her hand as the massive grate is pulled back. You take great pleasure kicking the body into the rushing current yourself, and with a deep breath you too are rushed away in the water. 

The tunnel twists and turns, the water thrashing you around like a rag doll, but you let your body flow however it goes. You don’t care. The only goal is you have to hold your breath till the sink. Then you can let it out. Then you can follow Pip.

==> Aranea: Remember the day your lusus died.

Why not, you’re about to drown anyways. It wasn’t a particularly memorable day, the only thing different about it was that she packed a lunch basket for you, saying that you both were going to visit an amazing place. And Aitso was an amazing place. The markets of the lower, the waterways of the upper, and the palace alone was amazing. You had no idea how your mom did all of it for you, and frankly you didn’t care. She was fiddling with the camera when you saw them in the water. Thousands of glowing eyes attached to a writhing mass of darkness. The water splashed as you fell in, must have been leaning over farther than you thought. You sank towards those glowing lights and you weren’t scared, it was calming in its own way. 

But then the white arms of your mother surrounded you, turning you towards the surface and throwing you as hard as they could. You shot out of the water, landing on the pathway where a small, curious collection of trolls had gathered. The depths stared back at you as you tried to jump in again, held back by an adult. “My mom’s down there!” you screamed time and again, but it was useless. Neither of you could swim. The air felt like it was crushing you, like you were at the bottom of the ocean. There was only one thought that stood out under all the pressure.

You killed your mother.

==> Stop remembering 

It’s nice, just floating in the blackness like this. It’s almost as if you’re in space, surrounded by all these stars. Your mother and Pipryt call you from the depths, you can hear them and you try to follow, not noticing the writhing mass of tentacles that surround you as the air slips from your lungs and you black out.


	2. The Sailor's Charm

Part Two: The Sailor’s Charm

==> Terezi: Be six-and-a-half

It started as a simple game of Do or Die. Even though most trolls stuck to choosing Die each time especially at highly populated wriggling day parties where everyone’s already three maggot shots in, but two people punching each other in the face with no one else around gets extremely boring really fast! So you and Vriska mostly did Do’s, trying to make them “the most extreme!!!!!!!!” Anything from scaling the cliff outside wearing nothing, trying to get Equis to break his hive again, to bagging bigger game than Nepeta barehanded, nothing was off limits! 

Your game had been going on for a sweep now, neither of you had backed down yet. Vriska assured you she had found the perfect thing that would make her victorious. “Kiss me.” She says, grinning wickedly as if she has just discovered a great secret with which she can blackmail you the rest of your life. You shrug and do the only thing you can. You kiss that girl.

Slowly at first, her lips are cool against yours. You plant several light kisses against them, sliding your hand up her arm and tangling it in the back of her hair. Teeth bite into the soft flesh of her lips and she pulls away with a gasp, touching her mouth and looking at the blood that remains on her fingertips. Something sparks in her eyes and she crawls into your lap and wraps her legs around you, pulling your lips to hers once again. Its warmer now and one of her hands pulls the back of your head closer to her while the slides up the side of your face and stops near the top as she hooks one of her fingers around your horn, pulling your head to the side crookedly. Her hand grasps your hair and your scalp tingles with electricity and everything feels like it’s on fire. 

You both pull apart breathing hard. “Fucker.” Vriska says, readjusting her grip on your hair and moving her legs. You feel something hard press into your stomach and she looks away sheepishly when you give her a questioning look. “Sorry.” She mutters.

“Miss Serket! You have nothing to apologize for!” your hand snakes up the back of her shirt before you bring it down, nails scratching her skin. “I am quite enjoying this myself. Would you like to amend your dare to make this go further?” Your teeth meet her collarbone and lightly brush against the skin. 

“Keep going.” Her breath is uneven when she once again pulls your mouth to hers, opening it this time and greeting your tongue with her own. The pressure against your jeans builds and you feel Vriska’s lips rise into a grin as she grinds down into you. She grinds harder when you moan into her mouth and in exchange your hand encircles the lump in her pants and squeezes. You must admit it’s very satisfying when she breaks the kiss to swear. 

She nods when you ask and soon you are both naked and you can see the beginning of her bulge poking out from its sheath. You lick two of your fingers and put them on either side of the tip, grinning as Vriska gasps and twitches, and try to coax the rest of it out. Meanwhile Vriska puts her hand just above your crotch and pushes against the swollen sheath with her palm and you can’t help but to bite into her neck and moan. 

You both play around for a while longer, kissing and teasing and just enjoying the feeling of fingers tracing on bare skin before Vriska sits back and your fingers tease the entrance of her nook. When they dive in and curl upwards Vriska breaths in as her bulge slides out completely, turning up and brushing the tip of yours when it goes past. With her hand she brings you closes by the back of your neck. Her other hand traces the inside of your thighs, occasionally brushes up to where your legs meet, while her mouth has found the interesting relationship between tongues and nipples. You try not to moan too much when she starts gently using her teeth. 

With her fingertips she slowly coaxes your bulge from its sheath, teasing the tip and wrapping it around her fingers as it slowly emerges. You press hers against her stomach with your thumb as your two fingers keep curling upwards inside of her, and when you feel the tight knot of the base of her bulge through the skin you push hard and focus on it. Not to be outdone, Vriska pulls the rest of your bulge from the sheath and your throat makes the most unflattering noise. She’s not done yet either, she moves your thumb from its resting place and lets go of your bulge with her hand instead taking hold of it with her own, wrapping it around and around, sliding it back and forth.

Your mouths mash together again, lips meeting teeth and tongues as you press your bulges together, pushing, twisting, and squeezing. Eventually they are sandwiched between your stomachs and you can feel hers writhing against you as you squeeze and twist again and again. Her hands find your ass and your teeth find her neck and you both make the most erotic noises you’ve ever heard. And then it’s over.

There’s a mixture of teal and blue ooze on the floor that you both exhaustedly lay in, too tired to really move. You’re not sure how long you both are there for, sleepily resting in each other’s arms, but eventually you both drag yourselves to the absolution block and turn on the hot water. “Was that really okay?” She stares at your question, her eyes look unsure.

“Totally. Closer than quadrants, remember?” she pulls you into a hug and you return it as the water washes the genetic material from you both. All you want to do is stay in this moment forever, keeping this girl safe from herself. With that feeling acknowledged you are quick to change the mood.

“That stain is never going away, you know.”

“Wow, fuck you!”

“Vriska that is counter-productive to keeping your hive from staining!”

==> Aranea: Wake up from your near-drowning experience.

You can’t do that! That happened sweeps ago! You even know how to swim now!

==> Past Aranea: Learn to swim

You’re supposed to move your arms how? Wait fuck how does this work? Shit! Sinking! Sinking! Barkbeast paddle calm down—okay shit, sinking again!

==> Aranea: Forget that embarrassing incident

You would if it didn’t keep getting brought up!

Both you and the crew aren’t entirely sure what happened that morning. The last thing you remember is starting to drown in the lower sink. The troll on morning watch was actually the first to spot you. She had thought you were an overboard member of the crew, so when you woke up in the medical bay there were plenty of curious people wondering who the kid was and why you had been floating five leagues away from the nearest landmass. You were kind of surprised about that too. 

The crew made no effort to hide that they were pirates, and they quickly realized that you had your uses as well. You took to the rigging like a purrbeast to a tree, you could match any of the sailors blow for blow despite being far younger than most of them, and most importantly you knew the seventeen prayers. To them, it practically made you a priest, which surprisingly is very helpful in pirate culture! You had been religious before, attending temple in Aitso whenever you could, but now you taught temple! An interesting change you must admit.

==> Aranea: Warn your crew of the approaching Alternian navy.

A fleet is on the starboard horizon, seven ships in all, each and every one of them flying the royal coat of arms. Lovely! Not only is it the Alternian navy, but it is Her Royal Fist, the fleet commanded by Orphaner Dualscar. The crew only has three ships, which is fine for taking on merchants, but this is a whole other deal. You honestly have no idea how you’re supposed to get out of this one. Luckily you are adept at anything on the ocean.

==> Past Aranea: Be inept at everything having to do with the ocean ever.

You’re not really having a lot of trouble with that one! You’d really like to speak to whoever invented the rigging on a ship and ask them why it was necessary because you’re really tired of getting tangled in it. If future you said you took to this like a purrbeast to a tree, they were a dirty liar who has spent far too much time around pirates. You also cannot match these pirates blow for blow are you kidding they are like twice your size that would be stupid.

==> Past Aranea: Become present Aranea.

Sure? You’re not really aware of all this past and future stuff however, so you’ll just stay stuck here in the rigging. All alone. With no hope of getting down ever. Yeah, that sounds good.

==> Remember that you have a shiv

Good idea! You pull the shiv from your belt and cut the loop of rigging that has ensnared you from your ankle. As gravity begins to pull you down you grab a handhold as to not fall horribly to your death.

You’ll have to go report to the quartermaster that there’s a missing bit of rope from the rigging now. Again. This may or may not be the seventh time you’ve gotten stuck this perigee. At least you can swim now!

\---

When you first arrived on board, no one was quite sure what to think of you. An orphaned blueblood kid from the lower districts of Aitso, you were kind of a mixed bag of skills! You were good with a shiv, but not much else. It would be fine if you ever joined a boarding party, you could stab someone in the eye or something, but anything to do with the maintenance of the ship? You were useless. They did however give you a mop when they realized you knew all the prayers. Most of the crew insisted that you held seventh eve’s temple, and you went to the bow and recited the prayer of wicked waters. It became a tradition after that. There was one other skill that kept you on the crew as well.

For the first time in your life you finally knew a skilled psionic, and they noticed your powers. They were quick to tell the crew about your potential and you were quick to ask for lessons. You had always been on the lookout for an orphaned psionic back in Aitso, they made big-time heists possible on a scale that just wasn’t imaginable without them. You hadn’t expected it to be you, however. 

The nights were long and the ocean breeze put a permanent chill in your bones as you spent your time swabbing the decks, learning the ropes and how not to get stuck in them, and discovering your psionics. You hadn’t actually used them yet. It was really hard! You weren’t even sure what they did! Maybe your mom could have taught you, she was sure to share the skills, but your mom was kind of dead. Not really an option.

The quartermaster took a liking to you. She taught you everything you now know about ships, how to read, how to tell if someone was cheating you at dice, and how to cheat them right back. You fell in miserable, black love with her, and she taught you about that too. How to use your fingertips to make someone positively shiver, that a well-placed touch on a bulge could put anyone on the ground, even that pain had its place in pleasure. She still loved sending you up in the rigging for chores just to see if you’d get stuck again.

\---

_Once I knew an honest lad his humors bright and pure_  
 _But I needed sailors so I handed him an oar_  
 _I bashed his head and dragged him off, our ship cast off from shore_  
 _Oh the port of Aitso we’ll surely see no more._

_So drink now lads and lasses, raise your glasses high!_  
 _Drink now, everyone, for we’re all sure to die._  
 _Whether by sea, on the land, or a pirate’s flashing blade_  
 _A peaceful death is the only one the old gods have forbade._

\---

Your muscles ache from the strain as you grab yet another crate, walk out of the ship’s hold, and toss it to the next crewmember, who walks it over the plank. This ship’s crew sits in the middle of the deck with their hands behind their heads, surrounded by guards with kinetic muskets and plasma weapons. Only a few of them died in the early evening raid, and you’re going to have to clean their blood off your shiv later. 

The captain and quartermaster are arguing which port to stop in next, the quartermaster based on the supplies they have and what they need to stock up on, and the captain on which market would give them the maximum profits for the goods in their hold. They’re still arguing when you and your shipmates set the charges in the ship, and they haven’t stopped by the time the ship sinks out of sight in the distance, swallowed by the quiet ocean. Fourteen trolls have joined the crew tonight, a pretty good haul you think.

Getting angrily drunk is the captain’s standard response to losing an argument with the quartermaster. She pointed out to him that they would have a better profit margin if the goods they needed were cheaper. The captain couldn’t argue with that, so instead he got drunk. They were so ghastly pale for each other and didn’t realize it that the entire ship felt embarrassed on their behalf whenever they were in the same room together.

There’s an ongoing bet on who will propose to whom of those two lunkheads. You’d love to say that your kismesis would be the one to propose, but you are the first to admit that the only one more obtuse about their own emotions than the captain is definitely her. It’s one of the points you find charming.

\---

_Once I took an honest lad and dragged him out to sea_  
 _I promised him if he worked hard than surely he’d be free_  
 _But that poor lad he should have known never to trust me_  
 _Oh the port of Aitso he nevermore will see._

_So drink now lads and lasses, raise your glasses high!_  
 _Drink now, everyone, for we’re all sure to die._  
 _Whether by sea, on the land, or a pirate’s flashing blade_  
 _A peaceful death is the only one the old gods have forbade._

\---

The boom of cannons and scream of plasma weapons fills the night air as the pirate ships surround the lone merchant vessel. The extra ships were added to your fleet about a sweep ago when your crew had the fortune of coming across them when their guards were down. The captain had wanted to sell them, but the quartermaster punched him in the face and screamed for him to stop being stupid. She than set his broken nose and gave him a hug; it was so embarrassingly, disgustingly pale that the rest of you left the mess and ate your meals on deck that night. The next night you all found that they had slept in the same cocoon and were now officially and disgustingly pale as the green moon itself.

You swing the grappling hook and it whistles in the air before you throw it at the railing of the merchant ship. It sticks some poor troll in the skull and you sigh, pulling them overboard and into the water as you bring the hook back to try again. You’re an accomplished member of the boarding party now, indispensable in any raid and leading quite a few of them. The grappling hook bites into the wood of the railing this time and you tie your end off and scurry across. 

It doesn’t take long for the ship to fall at the assault of the boarding party and the crew is swiftly dispatched and tossed overboard. You feast on the sinking ship before taking shelter at dawn.

\---

_Once I told an honest lad the sea’s the greatest thrill_  
 _Giant waves and bigger storms, oh sailing’s quite the skill_  
 _But on the dawn he took a shiv, his master he would kill_  
 _Oh the port of Aitso, I’ll never get my fill._

_So drink now lads and lasses, raise your glasses high!_  
 _Drink now, everyone, for we’re all sure to die._  
 _Whether by sea, on the land, or a pirate’s flashing blade_  
 _A peaceful death is the only one the old gods have forbade._

==> Terezi: Hear about Vriska’s unfortunate accident.

The footsteps echo against the stone walls as you run up the spiraling staircase. When Equius messaged you from Vriska’s husktop you weren’t entirely sure what was going on. After a profuse amount of sweating and exclaiming how improper it was that he typed in the wrong hemocolor, he explained to you that there had been an explosion. Vriska had been out hunting trolls for her lusus when a wayward grenade exploded next to her, taking her left arm and eye with it.

When you get to her room, Equius and Nepeta have already put her in her cocoon and hooked an IV up to her remaining arm. The sopor would staunch the bleeding and help the wounds seal, and Nepeta wearily wanders over to you asking how you’re doing. You’re perfectly fine, you assure her! Vriska will live! Equius states that she’ll be unconscious for quite a while and asks if you’re willing to take care of her. Of course you’ll take care of your sister! 

Not much else you can do.

\---

You meet Kanaya Maryam one night when you go to check on Vriska. It’s awkward and uncomfortable and you were changing the slime of her cocoon when Kanaya comes in and introduces herself as Vriska’s moirail. There’s a dull sting in your chest but you ignore it, instead transferring cocoon sliming duties to her. When her eyes linger a bit too long on Vriska’s skin you wonder if that little sting was even warranted. 

\---

It’s been two weeks and you’re trying very hard to ignore the incessant scuttling of Vriska’s lusus outside. She’s probably hungry, no big deal. She can wait a bit longer. There’s this aching in your chest when you watch Vriska lying there. You kind of feel as if it was your fault, as if you should have stopped her from getting in over her head; that’s what sisters did, right?

Occasionally you wonder if your feelings for Vriska are more than platonic, pale as the beach sand under a full moon. You then remind yourself that Vriska has a moirail and also that you boned that one time. And maybe several others. Who better to explore with than the one you trust above all else?

Her lusus is screeching and you briefly wonder if she’ll ever go out and hunt for herself. Not likely, given what you’ve seen. She’d gone several weeks without eating before; that had been when you first started helping Vriska. She’d ran out of nearby trolls and was at a loss when she asked you for help. By the time you had a line of trolls marching into her jaws, you both had almost been eaten in the confusion. Equius had said that the coma shouldn’t last long, that Vriska’s body would soon adjust to the missing limb and the blood loss and she’d be back on her feet in no time, especially with the aid of the sopor. It’s been a long night, and you blink a few times before slipping into the blackness.

\---

You feel yourself descending and you wonder if it’s the start of a day terror. Figures, accidentally fall asleep in a chair instead of your cocoon and this is what you get. It feels like you’re descending a long winding staircase. The air is slightly warm through the cool stone and you trudge on, right foot left foot right foot left foot yes there’s a good girl. This is the least terrifying day terror you’ve ever had. Your eyes are closed, you’re walking down, and it’s daytime. Not too scary yes dear just a bit more nothing to worry about just come on that’s a good girl. Even the voice in your head is slightly comforting.

_There is no voice in your head dear you’re dreaming yes yes that’s a good girl right foot left foot right foot left foot you’re almost there. You’re almost there oh that’s it yes. Yes just a little bit more._

It feels right, where it is. Like it was supposed to be there a long time ago, like it should have been there from the start; a lonely egg for a lusus would not have been so bad if the voice was there. 

_Just a little bit more oh yes that’s my girl I am so very very proud of you what a good little girl._

Vriska wakes up then, and her mind is like a cold tidal wave crashing against a rock and all of a sudden you see how very wrong this all is. You’re outside in the middle of the day, being coaxed to the source of an incredibly powerful psychic voice. Your first instinct is to bite your tongue, but the spider stops you before you can get that far. Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, you can feel yourself drawing closer to those gaping jaws. You wonder what death will be like.

Vriska’s at the window now and you hear her scream from above you for you to do something anything. You want to at least see her one last time, so you look up and open your eyes. Everything burns and goes white. It hits like a ton of bricks; your body goes into shock and collapses, rejecting every kind of input whether from yourself or Vriska’s mom. You can still hear here scuttling closer to you, even over your screams. But then there’s a large crunch, and cool salty liquid washes over you before you black out.

Vriska later told you that the only thing she could think to do was to roll her dice for your life, and the giant boot that appeared above her mother made sure that she won. She couldn’t get into your head, her mom was too strong for her to break the control, so she did the only thing she could.

Vriska killed her mother.

For you.

==> Aranea: Face death with dignity.

Seven royal frigates would out-maneuver and out-gun the sorry three ships you all called a fleet any day, so it wasn’t much of a shock when two of the ships sank under the heavy fire of the cannons. The boarding party came next and killed all who resisted, which honestly wasn’t much. Orphaner Dualscar did in fact make an appearance at the end, and ordered all the captives to be lined up on deck. He then took out a pistol, going down the line and putting the pistol right between the eyes of each and every troll. It looked like he was enjoying the look on their faces right before he pulled the trigger. 

When he finally got to you, the last in the line, and rested the cold metal muzzle right on your brow, he smirked. “Last vwords?” his accent was so audibly horrible you wanted to rip out his tongue and feed it to him through his nook. A switch flipped in your head, perhaps triggered by some survival instinct or just because of your intense hatred of this self-aggrandizing, showboaty twit; you suddenly had control of everything. 

The eyes of hundreds of trolls were now yours and you saw every intimate detail of Her Majesty’s Fist. Impressive ships to be sure but this self-absorbed sea dweller had no idea what they could really do. Solar boosted engines that idled below the surface, sails of the made of the most lightweight, durable material available to trolls; each frigate was a 44 gun thing of beauty. It was a shame the gap in technology was so great, your crew was at least a hundred times better than his. 

You got his last words right here. “Suck it.” And instantly forty-three rifles are all pointed at his head. He looks around wildly at first, but then his eyes come to rest on you and they fill with such loathing. You have literally beaten him with your hands tied behind your back. Throwing him overboard is a quick affair, he’ll live, he’s a seadweller, and you rope the former flagship onto the new one and tow it along. You think you’ll rename this ship _Godfucker._ The crew will be an easy thing to convince to stay ; Alternian military code makes no differentiation between crimes committed and crimes committed by a troll under psychic control, that should be motivation enough for most of them. Betraying a seadweller is practically a death sentence in its own right. The ships are positively skimming, and you promise yourself that you’ll hold a funeral for your dead friends later, but right now the moons over the ocean are beautiful. Eight ships is a good fleet, you think. Fitting for your crew of gambligants.

==> Aranea: Become Mindfang

With pleasure, motherfuckers.

\---

_Once I turned an honest lad into a killer pure_  
 _The sleeping crew he did not stir as he took an oar_  
 _He bashed their heads and killed them all, our ship was ran ashore._  
 _Oh the port of Aitso we’ll surely see no more._

_So drink now lads and lasses, raise your glasses high!_  
 _Drink now, everyone, for we’re all sure to die._  
 _Whether by sea, on the land, or a pirate’s flashing blade_  
 _A peaceful death is the only one the old gods have forbade._

 


	3. Grape Faygo

Part Three: Grape Faygo

==> Be Terezi

The first thing you heard upon waking was the sound of your mother’s voice in your head for the first time. The second was her apology. She should have been there for you your entire life, not just now. You thanked her, this was more than enough. The third was her offer to teach you to see without sight, and you took her up on that immediately. 

Vriska was over at your hive constantly trying to make sure you didn’t run into walls or anything, but unfortunately her idea of a good way to keep that from happening was to make traps that did indeed stop you from running into the wall, but instead smacked you into the floor. You’re no longer sure how many times you can avoid breaking your nose in a day. Vriska outright rejected your suggestion that if she absolutely had to help, she should consider using cushions. There would be no coddling of you, what are you crazy? Did you want to be culled on ascension? No Vriska, you assured her, you do not in fact want to be culled because you were blind. You however fail to see how developing the skill to not break your nose while falling has any bearing on that. 

It can be extremely irritating when she makes a noise every time your leg almost his a doorway or your arm nearly brushes the wall. Yes, thank you very much Miss blueberry swirl! The chastity of your arm thanks her very much for saving it from that brutish wall. In fact it is so thankful that it would like to throw you a banquet on your face, perhaps even inviting the Knuckle siblings! It’s very impressive, really, you hear the Knuckles are almost always engaged in other social events, she should be flattered! 

She stops helping after that and honestly you have never been more relieved. 

Your mother teaches you many things: the smell of colors and emotions, the tastes of pictures and text, to use your hearing to discern things many others could not. Really it is all quite exciting. You suppose you should practice sparing with Vriska if she ever gets the nerve to try to hit you. She’s been different since that day, no longer really the same. You aren’t either, though in all fairness you’re not sure whether having the sun baking your eyes inside your skull is worse than squashing your mother with a giant magical boot that came from a dice roll. Maybe you could ask Vriska how that feels!

Alright that was a terrible joke and you should be ashamed. You won’t stop grinning though, it seems as if it is now the preferred expression of your face and you see no reason to argue with it! Your fangs could use some moonlight, and the tastes of the air are ever so important now. 

In addition to practically living at your hive, Vriska spends a lot more time with Kanaya now, even to the point of bringing her to your hive and not telling you about it first. It’s very awkward waking up, knowing someone’s in the room, but having it turn out to be a completely different person. It’s even worse when it’s her moirail. That doesn’t end up lasting long though. Kanaya messages you one day, telling you that she’s breaking up with Vriska. Her feelings were a bit more of the passionate disposition, and she assured you that you should feel free to pursue her in pale endeavors. You ignore the message and try not to think about it.

==> Mindfang: Check out that totally hot ass at the bar

Sorry, you can’t pay attention to commands right now, you’re looking at the amazingly hot ass at the bar. She walked in two minutes ago and first things you noticed about her were that she was blind, wearing cherry red shades, and sexually attractive to an unfair level. You walk up to the bartender and slip him a few denarii, letting him know she’s on your tab. “You got it boss.”

You and your crew don’t go unnoticed in this town. It’d be hard to as you’re one of its primary sources of income. The port town of Assiro doesn’t particularly care what you do to other towns or on the seas, as long as it doesn’t happen here. They are an indispensable location that only cares about money, and you can appreciate that. You make your way back from the bar to the booth carrying a large orange fruit floating in a bowl of purple alcohol, booze leaches sticking out from it at every angle, and you don’t go alone.

The woman with cherry shades follows and slips into the booth with you. “I appreciate the drinks.” She says, sipping something that looks like what would come out of a grub after it was baked in radiation. She makes sure to trail her lips over the rim of the glass and your mind goes to places that are most certainly not suitable for this bar, no matter how inviting the table looks. You rip one of the leaches from the fruit and pop it in your mouth. Fruity.

“I haven’t met you before. New in town?” 

“That easy to tell? Guess I should work on my flirting.” Her tongue moves over her lips and you become uncomfortably aware that you are wearing tight pants this morning. The bass from the music is pulsing hard and fast, and you feel it in unfortunate places. She smiles a little then; she knows what she’s doing to you. That just makes the pressure worse. “Pity the sun’s coming up, so little time to improve.”

“They do rent rooms here.”

Her eyebrows rise. “I don’t even know your name!” she takes another sip and smirks, teeth flashing over her lips. “Not that the suggestion is not… appealing.” You wonder what those teeth would feel like. 

“Mindfang.”

“Redglare.” You feel her fingers trace up your inner thigh and then she presses between your legs and _oh gods that is nice—_ Your pants are off almost the instant you both crash through the door and her lips are crushing yours while your hand is in her hair. Redglare takes some handcuffs from gods know where and slides them on your wrists with a click, and is torturously slow when unbuttoning her breeches. Her tongue travels up your neck to the corner of your jaw and she plants a kiss at the edge of your mouth. Her fingers unbutton your shirt, trailing slowly down your skin, and her bulge wraps around yours and dips into your nook and you struggle to make yours do the same. “Ah ah, can’t have that captain. Wouldn’t do for you to get everything you wanted.” She’s keeping it away from her entrance as she starts pushing in and out and—

_Gods yeah right there wow fuck_

It’s curling up against every spot you could dream of and Redglare knows it, so she muffles your moans with a kiss as she pushes in and out. You don’t complain when she turns you into a shivering mess and grins about it

\---

The crew isn’t surprised when they find that the new face on board is one of your possibly black endeavors. It seems all you want to do is tie her up in your cabin and make her beg, see how she likes it. You might have enjoyed the begging, not that you’ll ever admit that to anyone. Your merry crew of gambligants casts off at dusk, the sails filled with the promise of blood and riches as the engines push you out to sea. It’s a good evening.

It’s several weeks before the crew sees any real action, and if they had any doubt about your decision to add a blind member to their ranks, Redglare’s skill with a blade has washed that all away with the blood of slain trolls. 

She doesn’t attend temple though, and you find her in the crow’s nest after. Not every troll is religious and you understand that, the mirthful messiahs aren’t for everyone. Most seafaring trolls are though, so it comes as a bit of a surprise when she tells you she has no religion. You find out a week later that it’s a lie, you see the necklace for an instant as she gets dressed. She’s a Sufferist, a follower of that poor deluded fool of a troll who believed that they could all live in peace with each other until the day he was killed. When you ask, she doesn’t deny it. In return you share with her the stories that an old lover shared with you long ago; stories about the adventures of the Sufferer, his Disciple, the Psiionic, and the Dolorosa. She thanked you.

You stop pailing eventually, agreeing that you both work better as friends rather than lovers. You end up talking about religion most nights if no ships show up. “It just makes sense to me.” You try to explain. “A troll’s life is cruel, so why not find the humor of it all?”

She’s surprised to find that you are, in fact, a very devote clown. You even show her your paints for the carnival feast. “But a troll’s life doesn’t have to be! The castes are a broken system, and if everyone worked together we could fix it!”

“Do you honestly believe that would happen? There are trolls like that out there, I’ve met them, but when push comes to shove they’ll kill their best hatefriend to save their skin as long as they aren’t in a quadrant. As a kid I cut throats to get by, and now I’m doing the same thing. Nothing’s changed for the past hundred sweeps. What makes you think we could all just start being nice?”

“Murder doesn’t have to be a troll’s nature.”

“Have you ever killed someone?”

“Of course. You’ve seen me do it often enough.”

“I have, and I’ve seen the look on your face when you do it. Redglare, you can’t tell me that feeling isn’t a natural part of being a troll. Murder’s been here since the 48 put the first twelve trolls on land and told them to share the food. It didn’t work then, and it still doesn’t work now.” She’s turned towards the ocean now, her mouth a hard line.

“I think I’ll leave the next time we go to port.” She says quietly. “Nothing against you, it’s just, I don’t think this life is for me.”

“I get it. It must be hard living as a pirate when you’re a Legislacerator.” You don’t even see her draw her sword, it’s just pressing into your throat suddenly. “Would you calm down?”

“Since when have you known?”

“Since the bar. Legislacerators walk differently, it’s hard to miss if you know what you’re looking for.”

“Why let me on board?”

“You seemed interesting.”

\---

There’s a note tacked on your cabin wall the evening after you make it to the next port. Redglare apologizes for deceiving you and thanks you for your hospitality. She also warns you that the next time you see her, she’ll be coming for your head. You can’t help but smile. Bring it on.

==> Terezi: Run into a wall

Haha, nice try! You know your way around your hive pretty well now, you haven’t ran into anything for a week! And that was only because Vriska put a chair in the middle of the room. Colors and shapes are slowly making sense to you now. Everything still feels like a giant blob of grey, but at least now you can tell where one blob ends and the other starts. It’s a very nice evening.

==> Terezi: Trip over a fucking chair

FUCKING—

==> Terezi: Angrily message Vriska

GC: VR1SK4!   
GC: D:  
AG: yessssssss?   
GC: D1D YOU PUT 4 CH41R 1N TH3 H4LLW4Y?   
GC: 4G41N?   
AG: m8ybeeeeeeee  
AG: :::;)   
GC: WHY  
GC: WHY WOULD YOU DO TH1S TO 4 BL1ND G1RL?   
GC: DO YOU 3NJOY B31NG 4 HORR1BL3 P3RSON?   
AG: It’s pretty gr8  
AG: I heard you fall from out here!!!!!!!!   
GC: 1 4M GO1NG TO PUNCH YOU 1N TH3 F4C3  
AG: If you can get past the o8stacle course that is  
GC: YOU S3T HUNDR3DS OF TR4PS 1N MY L4WNR1NG 4G41N, D1DN’T YOU.   
AG: ::::D  
AG: It’s part of curing you!!!!!!!!   
GC: VR1SK4 1 4M BL1ND, NOT S1CK.   
GC: YOU DON’T CUR3 TH4T  
AG: Not if you stay inside like a 8oring person you don’t.   
GC: 1 R34LLY 4M GO1NG TO PUNCH YOU. 

==> Terezi: Follow through with your threat.

It takes a while, but you do eventually. In all fairness, you broke your nose on your way to Vriska, it’s only right that you both should match.

\---

You’ve been blind for a sweep now, and colors and shapes are no longer a mystery to your nose. Vriska’s obsession with making you stronger ironically enough actually worked in a way. You got tired of falling on your face, so you learned what traps smelled like. After that it was fairly simple to get around. Vriska moved in a while ago, claiming it was to make sure you would actually be okay, but you know Vriska and killing her lusus has been hard for her. She just doesn’t want to be alone. Doesn’t mean you don’t want to punch her sometimes. 

Other times though you just find yourself wanting to hold her and it’s very hard not to remember Kanaya practically giving you her blessing. That would be inappropriate! She is your sister, bound in blood, and you are closer than any quadrant could ever hope to compare to. At least that’s what you used to tell yourself, but you wonder if that’s really the case anymore. 

It happens suddenly one day, and you’re not entirely sure how. Her hand lingers a bit too long on your face, and you hold it there and smile at her and suddenly she’s screeching and squawking, throwing things around the hive like she was the very center of a storm herself. Vriska runs out of your hive, across your lawnring, and into the forest. You are very confused!

Your husktop blips later, informing you that there is a message waiting on Trollian. 

AG: Sorry a8out earlier!!!!!!!!   
AG: I was just hit with such a massive urge to hug you I had to get out of there. It's pretty disgusting!   
AG: Me having pale feelings for you I mean.   
AG: After all, I'm the reason you're 8lind! What a joke!   
AG: Who ever heard of a moirail that 8linded their partner????????   
AG: Not me!!!!!!!!   
AG: So instead of hanging around I'm going off to have adventures on my raft!   
AG: I might never come 8ack!   
AG: So........   
AG: Good8ye Terezi  
GC: VR1SK4 W41T  
AG: Sorry. 

\---

It’s been a few perigees since Vriska disappeared. Eridan said he saw her raft out by an island he knew before she blew up his skip. It can be difficult just waiting around doing nothing. So instead you plan, you talk to your lusus, you sharpen your skills with a sword and learn what it’s like to sprint through the forest without running into a single tree. You explore ruins with Aradia, and hunt with Nepeta, and even though you are waiting for the perfect moment you are anything but idle.

When your lusus finally hatches, you are ready. You have the coordinates from Eridan, and you are ready to fly off into the moonrise to save Vriska from being a massive butt! Unfortunately your lusus isn’t ready to fly right after hatching so it takes a few more weeks.

The night she is ready however, something’s different. You can feel the tension in every inch of your body, your muscles and nerves are alight with electricity, and you are so completely ready to chase down Miss Electric Blueberry and give her a piece of your mind. Telling a girl you had pale feelings for her and then running away? Unacceptable! A crime against nature itself!

You climb onto your lusus’s back and she stretches her wings. You feel if you could see you would be very impressed by the wingspan! Aradia says if you could have seen her you would have gone blind anyways, her eyes burned like the sun. It feels a bit strange when she takes off, you’ve never flown before but it is quite and exciting experience! The night air tastes cool and clear, hardly a cloud in the sky. Her wings beat hard and strong, and your stomach lurches as she dives and twists, marking the black sky as her own. 

She’s laughing and so are you; it’s exhilarating! It doesn’t take long to get to the tiny island where Vriska has been living and you feel a headache coming on when you smell the camp. She calls that a tent? Did she even bring a cocoon? Is that the raft she used? Gods that thing is barely floating as is. When your mom lands she stumbles out of it, surprised and confused.

“Terezi? What are you doing here? Leave me alo—”

You punch her in the face. Romantically, of course.

==> Mindfang: Be completely caught off guard at the dragon

It’s not hard to do that! You realize it’s not exactly good pile talk to discuss your lusus after pailing someone, but at this point you kind of wish you had done that! Having a dragon for a parent is really something that should be mentioned! “You are such a spoilsport.”

She lands behind you, her sword drawn. Your left eye burns, you can’t see anything out of it anymore. What was even up with the dragon’s eyes? It was like staring into the sun! “I don’t see it that way.”

“You have a dragon! Come on, how is that fair?”

“I am the law! It is not my job to be fair! 

“And that’s why you’re a spoilsport.” You draw your own sword, touching the tip of hers. “Bring it.”

She’s fast. Faster than anything you’re used to, and the small sword of hers does not help you in any way, shape, or form. You can barely keep up with it, metal clanging as you parry and you try to get a hit on her but she dances out of the way as if her needle-like form weighed nothing. She’s very fast, but you’re stronger so you try to use that to your advantage, striking against the sword again and again. If she loses her grip, you’ve won! But she doesn’t lose her grip, and there’s a blinding pain in your left arm as the sword clatters to the ground. You look down to see bright blue blood painting the deck of your ship. Welp.

\---

The cell door slides open and Redglare marches in. When it is shut, she waves the other guards off. “The prisoner is not a danger to me! She is crippled!”

“Should the blind Legislacerator really be calling the one armed pirate crippled?”

“I was actually talking about your eye! But now that you mention it the arm is a major disadvantage as well.”

It’s not intentional, but ugly, growling laughter bubbles up and pushes past your vocal chords, rasping in the cell. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise.”

“So what brings you to the cell of a condemned criminal?”

“I wanted to talk. You know, like we used to.” It’s funnier than the blind joke, but this one doesn’t make you laugh. “Religion. Fate. Your trial. Anything really.”

You crack your neck, rubbing the sore muscles with your good arm. They don’t waste money on cocoons for prisoners, so it’s a bit nostalgic when you wake up with the cold stones pressing on your face. “I’m a clown through and through, I’ve had my share of miracles. What’s your excuse for following the grand masochist.”

“Wow rude.”

“You were the ones that made handcuffs a religious symbol, not me.”

She’s hesitating and it’s curious. She never hesitated in anything whether it was killing or cutting off your arm, so why now? “Someone told me you were there. The day he died.”

“Yeah.”

Redglare’s mouth drops open in shock. “You don’t brag about it? You don’t talk about it at all? It’s not as if you care about the gag order, you’re a pirate! You’re also a clown, you should positively gloat about this sort of thing.” Her voice is rising and you understand now. You’ve met her god, and she cannot comprehend the fact that you do not follow his teachings. 

“He was just a troll. A shouty midget troll with nubby horns and blood like fire. He wore tight pants that came to his shoulders, and he cried when I put grubsauce on my food around him. The psionic that followed him told me that he was the most annoying kid that he’d ever been around. I taught him the prayer of carnivals and he thanked me for it, and when he tried to say it he messed it up completely. When he talked about fate, he said we weren’t meant to be like this. That he’d had a vision of a better Alternia. He wasn’t a god, he wasn’t even a religious leader, he was a troll that had a dream and thought he could change an entire race.”

The corners of Redglare’s mouth fall, and she grasps at the necklace. “Do you think my beliefs are worthless?”

“No.”

She leaves the cell a little wiser, her stride a little heavier. And you plot your escape. 

\---

The crowds roar as you approach the mark, and Redglare stands at attention. His Honerable Tyranny screeches hungrily, talk about annoying. You take a moment to consider your future actions, and you find that you are glad that you got the chance to talk to Redglare one last time in that cell.

The crowd is an acceptable amount, and Redglare has indeed brought her sword. It’s time.

==> Mindfang: End your story, escape the trial.

With pleasure.

==> Terezi: Ascend

Thousands of trolls are gathered for the Reaping, all ready to ascend and bring glory to the empire in battle. Your hand brushes Vriska’s and you can tell she’s smiling as she takes it in her own. It turns out punching someone romantically is practically a proposal! Who knew?

It’s been sweeps since you and Vriska started going out, and a few weeks ago she surprised you with a plain band with her sigil carved in diamond. Of course, you are not nearly so clueless as to not notice her browsing history, so you also had purchased a ring for her. Matching rings on right hands, that’s the way moirails stand as the old proverb goes. 

You hear the boom as the ships break through the atmosphere, and soon the landing engines are screaming as the great warships land, shaking the ground for miles. Vriska’s hand squeezes yours, and you imagine what she must look like now; long hair flailing in the wind, a wicked grin on her face, and adventure in her eyes. For a moment, you smell the sea brine in her hair and think of all the adventures you have yet to have. The moment stops and all that’s left is her hand clasped in yours, and it’s more than enough.


End file.
